Hayan

In the religious tradition of the Eleven Cities, Hayan was the goddess of love, protection and wisdom. She was closely and frequently associated with motherhood and children despite having no children of her own in any of the standard mythology dealing with her, and as time passed was increasingly depicted as a divine child herself.
Hayan was worshipped in both rural and urban settings, though the latter version of her cult has left the stronger cultural footprint. Wesmod was conspicuously circumspect in his attack on the cult of Hayan, which became the only such institution to survive the The Wesmodian Reformation  without being substantially discredited. Although significantly altered by the broader changes that the reformation had on notions of public and private piety, the cult endured and reinvented itself as the modern Keepers of Light, an order of benevolent - if rather secretive - secular thaumatuges.

Etymology

In Old Zolian Hayan is a feminine agentive form of the noun Hay, meaning light. The name therefore means lightener, which may be an allusion to her capacity as a goddess of enlightenment, a metaphorical reference to the 'light' she brings into the world via her capacity as the patroness and protector of children, or a description of her as a child, and therefore as a guiding light in the world, a capacity her devotees often ascribed to her. This last interpretation is popular in her cult in the present day, though it is probably the least likely as Hayan was for much of her history depicted as a young but adult woman.

Origins

The origins of Hayan are perhaps the most obscure of any member of her pantheon. Her name appears in a handful of Old Zohlian inscriptions on uninhabited islands in the Sea of Jars. Some of these inscriptions show signs of having been components of small sanctuaries, probably constructed from wood some centuries before the founding of the oldest cities (thus somewhere between 2,000 and 3,000 years ago). Exactly why such a goddess should have arisen in an insular setting is unclear. Scrimshaw found on the islands clearly depicts ships and boats, confirming the likely hypothesis that the people that made these inscriptions were either sailors or well-acquainted with nautical matters. This allows the possibility that a goddess associated with wisdom, rationality and protection might be invoked by navigators seeking to guide their vessels across seas to safe anchorages.
This theory begins to make more sense if it can be assumed - as seems likely - that the first mariners in the Sea of Jars steered their ships by the sun and stars. The connection to the sun would connect her to Ajqyod . The cult of Hayan had no particular connection to that of Ajqyod, but there are mythological traditions that connect the two deities, which makes sense given that Hayan is associated with wisdom and Ajqyod with the communal products of human endeavour. More interestingly the connection with stars would link Hayan with the goddess Ynglyas, a deity whose portfolio included two issues - female fertility and astrology - that overlap with those of a goddess of parenthood and wisdom. Some researchers have suggested that Hayan originated as some sort of adjunct of Ynglyas, a sentimental evocation of the delights and comforts of home that sailors might reach by carefully interpreting the patterns of the stars. Some have even gone so far as to posit a myth wherein Hayan is in fact Ynglyas's daughter, possibly fathered by Ajqyod. Such a myth is unattested, however, and the theory ignores the fact that Hayan, in pictorial form, seems to have aged backwards, being represented in pre-Wesmodian times as an adult and adopting her child-like stature only as time passed. For her to have begun as a child and aged as time passed would contradict this. There is scant literary evidence linking Hayan and Ynglyas, though the parallels between the portfolios of the two goddesses does hint at some sort of parallel evolution, as do certain elements of their worship. Much more research is required before anything definitive can be said, however, and while the Keepers of Light possess some of the finest libraries in the world they are notoriously stiff in controlling access to these resources, being particularly reticent about allowing thaumatologists to use their books.
What is clear is that by the time of the foundation of the first cities Hayan was revered in most places and had shed any connection she may have had with sailors or the sea. Her particular connection with parenthood and children may well have had something to do with this widespread acceptance of the cult.

Divine portfolio

Though her initial purpose is unclear, in recorded pre-Wesmodian history Hayan was worshipped primarily as an apotropaic goddess, with the power to prevent harm and ill fortune from affecting her devotees. This power naturally made her a popular goddess and won her the particular devotion of those with an interest providing protetion and nurturing, particularly parents. In this way Hayan became particularly associated with children and the occasion of a body of moral philosophical writing on the responsibilities of parents, which in turn gave rise to the high moral tone of her cult.
Hayan was also worshipped as a goddess of love, with a significant body of love poetry dedicated to her, the notion being that lovers or aspiring lovers dearly wished to have their emotional well-being protected by another, and indeed vice versa. Again, the priesthood of Hayan were involved with this, producing a corpus of analects on the nature of love and the responsibilities of lovers which contributed further to the goddess's role as a safeguard on public and private morality.

Worship

See also: Hayanian litugies
The worship of Hayan is far better-documented than that of most other gods for the simple reason that much of it is still being conducted, as a social convention if not as an act of outright spiritual devotion. Although the Wesmodian Invectives do contain a chapter attacking these practices, Wesmod's critique of the cult of Hayan is notably half-hearted and the cult largely survived the cultural reforms he excited.
The priesthood of Hayan therefore continues to operate in established temples in eight of the Eleven Cities. The exceptions are Tyros, Oluz and Elpaloz, though even in those cities private veneration of Hayan remains common, with ritual lanterns being lit during the winter months and songs of praise to the goddess being sung over cradles in many homes. The staff of the brick-and-mortar temples do not always liaise closely and specific observances vary from place to place, but these two practices - ritual light and liturgical song - are the key themes in the worship of this deity.
There exists a substantial body of philosophical and theological discussion on the ritual role of light in Hayan-worship. The overall theme in such writing, however, is that light cannot be relied on in nature and that humanity must be ready to provide its own light at any time - an undertaking that, the argument runs, is within the power of any person. In each temple of Hayan, therefore, lights are kindled every night at (or slightly before) sunset and carefully husbanded through the night before being extinguished at (or shortly after) dawn. The nimbuses of these lights are said to constitute a ritual space in which all who can be seen are protected. In Pholyos, Chogyos, Hulumay and Dypholyos these lights take the form of thick white beeswax candles. In Pholyos and Hulumay, several such candles are used in winter, and are arranged in a different, complicated pattern throughout the temple on each night of the season, being lit in a specific order by priests singing specific chants for each night. This produces particular patterns of light through the temple over the course of the night. In Pholyos the priests are accompanied in their singing by a small choir; in Hulumay they sing alone, but the candles are moulded into elaborately-rendered anthropomorphic shapes, mostly depicting women and girls. In Chogyos more candles are added to the display of light each night until the winter solstice, after which the number of candles lit begins to reduce until the coming of the vernal equinox. In Loros, Adymalon, Dyqamay and Ramoros these lights take the form of lanterns lit with particularly fine and reliable oils - the precise formula for which is confidential - sourced from the Commercial guilds. Individual households of sufficient means also sometimes possess these lanterns. They vary widely in form but are invariably either made of metal (Dyqamay silver being a preferred option, though one few households can afford) or painted white, a colour to which the priesthood attaches symbolic significance. In Loros there are several small lanterns placed around the temple much like Pholyosian candles, while in the other cities a single substantial beacon is kindled at the centre of the temple. In Dyqamay and Ramoros silver mirrors are used to reflect the light out and around the surrounding streets.
Almost anybody can attend a recitation of choral hymns held in one of Hayan's temples; most such occasions are specifically open to all comers and constitute significant public gatherings. Most temples hold these events on the evening of every new moon, placing lights in especial configurations around the temple (and, in Pholyos, Hulumay and Ramoros, somewhat beyond it) for the occasion. The interesting exceptions are Chogyos and Dyqamay, where choirs in fact sing throughout the night of the new moon, and Adymalon, where they sing at the night of the full moon instead. A large body of liturgical to Hayan exist, most (though not all) predating the Wesmodian reformation and intended to be sung a capella, though some, particularly in Dyqamay, are set to chimes and flutes. Deciding the precise program of songs for any given evening is a complicated business depending on the preferences of the local members of the Keepers of Light, the time of year - some songs are tied to the seasons - and even popular subscription. In both Pholyos and Ramoros, an annual competition is held among poets to produce a new song, with the winner receiving great social acclaim. The choirs themselves are composed of members of the citizenry, usually pre-pubescent children, with the exact number and composition for any given recitation a complicated matter depending on the nature of the event, the proposed songs and the personal relationships of the priests. In every case, however, being a member of the choir, or having one's child picked for duty, is an occasion of considerable prestige in most circles.
The current function of these recitations is as a social rallying point and civic gathering, but like the lights they stem from the former belief that the songs protect those who hear them. Indeed the well-attested pre-Wesmodian belief about the capacity of the goddess to create areas of sanctuary around her devotees is a matter about which many thaumatologists would like to learn. The temples maintain substantial archives of contemporary and historical scholarship on exactly how this worked, with some even rumoured to hold records predating the Wesmodian Reformation. The Keepers of Light take umbrage at the notion of these practices being co-opted for private intellectual gain, however, and most will only allow access to their archives to thaumatologists who can prove their work serves a high, moral, public purpose, making such access usually difficult to secure.

Wesmodian Reformation

Wesmod covers Hayan in the eighth and final of his Invectives. His objections are straightforward and, coming so late in the compilation of essays, familiar, echoing his criticisms of Ajqyod and Zargyod. Wesmod starts by carefully and patiently observing that children need protecting and that any parent can absolutely be forgiven for looking for some sort of numinous protection for their child. He also spares a kind word for the priesthood of Hayan in light of their promotion of public morality and well-being. Although Wesmod includes conciliatory preambles in some of his other invectives, he never goes this far in his praise of any of the other cults. This discussion is more than just a preamble, taking up almost half of the entire essay. The placement of this particular discussion so late in the overall document has been a subject of considerable discussion among scholars. It means that, read as a whole, the Invectives actually come to something of an anti-climax, ending a sometimes furious indictment of religious mysticism with some of Wesmod's most cautious and conciliatory writing. Discussion of what this could mean is wide-ranging. One of the most popular theories is that Wesmod understood that, but venturing to criticise an institution concerned with the well-being of children, he was in fact discussing matters with a strong emotional resonance beyond the religious, and needed to tread carefully.
He does, however, eventually get around to a discussion of his objections to the cult of Hayan, which broadly echo those he voices against Zargyod. Children absolutely require protection, he states, but the first responsibility for that protection must surely rest with the parents themselves. To long for the existence of a higher power offering such protection is understandable, but not especially productive. At best it will render the parent tractable to advice from without. This is not a bad idea in itself, since such advice will probably be offered honestly and may well be constructive, but the advice must inescapably come from other people, not from the numinous, and nobody, Wesmod argues, possesses wisdom fundamentally beyond that of anybody else. At worst, the supposition of a higher power protecting children may lead to complacency and neglect on the part of the parent, an assumption that their pious obeisance to Hayan will suffice to protect their child from the ills of the world, which has the obvious potential to be disastrous. The common thread between the best-case and worst-case scenarios, Wesmod observes, is the notion of a guiding numinous intelligence. The priesthood of Hayan accomplishes some considerable good in the world, he argues, but none of that good actually hinges on their supposed capacity as agents of a remote deity. Instead of devoting their energies to mysticism and magic, he argues, the priesthood of Hayan ought to concentrate on those aspects of their work that are demonstrably constructive.
If Wesmod's long preamble to this invective was intended as conciliatory rhetoric, it appears to have been broadly successful. These ideas seem to have been carried forward into public policy without a great deal of controversy. Changing perceptions of the cult of Hayan appear not to have resulted in any of the sort of catastrophic confrontations that took place between the general populace and the cults of Ajqyod and Maryas. Rather the cult was simply affected by a general change in public mood towards the notion of the numinous, with people increasingly putting aside the religious connotations of the cult's public rituals and embracing instead a benevolent secular role for the institution. "Gathering in light" remained a common social practice throughout the cities, though it seems likely that attendance did drop off in most places; today it is something of a minority pursuit. The notion of the temple as a place where moral behaviour was expected and rewarded appears to have remained quite strongly ingrained, with the lamplights now delineating a space for general social discussion and community engagement rather than one of supernatural protection.
The question naturally arises; did the priests of Hayan themselves mount any sort of reverential fightback against the secularisation of their holy sanctuaries? If so, the movement appears to have been propagandistic rather than one of physical confrontation. Pre-Wesmodian accounts of the mythology surrounding Hayan are similar to those related to the other gods; she interacts with them as an equal, evincing her own specific numinous personality and exercising her own unique powers upon mortals as the aetiology and moral purpose of the story demands. Many of those written in the two or three centuries after the Wesmodian Reformation, however, position her very differently, as a uniquely powerful entity operating in a universe seemingly denuded of other numinous intelligences. When these stories depict the other gods it typically shows them as powerful or supernaturally gifted mortals or, failing that, as demonic entities existing primarily as antagonists to Hayan, whose status as a child is often increasingly emphasised. Whereas she once interacted with, for example, Pergyad as an equal, with the tale of the Golden Hinds being a battle of wits between two adult deities, it gradually became a tale of the radiantly good young girl Hayan facing down the wild horned demon Pergyad.
It is unclear whether these sorts of changes represent some sort of rearguard action against the secularisation of the Reformation or not. It will be noted, for example, that the cults of Hayan in various cities shared no particularly cohesive overarching organisation as, for example, those of Dahan did. As such there is no reason to suppose that this is any sort of organised institutional initiative. The priests of the pre-Wesmodian polytheism were, of course, people, and should not be construed as religious monomaniacs. It is highly likely that, in fact, the priests of Hayan moved with the sea-change in public mood caused by the dissemination of the Wesmodian Invectives just as those of Krezzan did.
Rather than a conscious effort to counteract the Wesmodian Reformation, the shift in the focus of the stories has been cited as evidence that in the aftermath of the reformation, the cities went through a period of essentially monotheistic religion, trusting in the power of the one god whose emotional appeal seemed to trump the logic of the reformer. This is an interesting idea, and one probably likely to be studied more as thaumatologists investigate the apotropaic powers of Hayanian ritualism, though as yet the critical literature on it is slight.

Current status of cult

The cult of Hayan continues under the auspices of the Keepers of Light, who maintain the temples in eight of the cities - again, the odd ones out are Tyros, Oluz and Halumay - and conduct the liturgy of "Gathering in Light" in a variety of forms throughout the year. In most places these are seen as more of a secular community tradition rather than a religious ceremony, but the very nature of apotropiac religion rests on private superstitions and the brisk trade in statuettes and lanterns dedicated to Hayan suggest a degree of private piety has endured. Precisely what form that takes, and whether it imparts any genuine supernatural protection to the believer, is a subject that interests many thaumatologists. Again, the Keepers of Light may be able to help here, but - also again - their archives are among the few things they seem reluctant to illuminate.
The Keepers of Light suffer none of the dark reputation endured by the Beast Men or the Brotherhood of Rooks. Wherever they are practiced, the rites of Hayan are broadly respected - even if they are not universally observed, as indeed they are not - and seen as being a check on public morality substantially above base drives and ill feeling. This being said, the prestige of the Keepers of Light and their practices have given rise to certain forms of rivalry and jockeying for social influence. The choirs that sing in most of the ceremonies rotate members based on the the demands of the chosen songs and the personality of the priests doing the choosing. To have a child perform reflects very well on their family, all the more so if they are chosen to perform a solo recitation, and a certain amount of skulduggery and ill feeling can take effect as families compete to have their children perform at given important ceremonies. It is an open secret that parents, particularly those from wealthy or prominent families, will often attempt to prevail upon the Keepers to have their children chosen for this honour at propitious times, whether their voice suits the chosen compositions or not. Such stage parenting is said to be particularly common in Andymalon and Dypholyos. The Keepers actively discourage this sort of practice, observing that it is wholly against the spirit of community togetherness that these events are supposed to foster, and pursue an institutional line firmly insisting that they choose the singers on strictly artistic grounds. To openly question this is a swift way to destroy one's social credibility. Nevertheless the rivalries do continue, and can lead to abiding and even intergenerational ill feeling between families.